


Schadenfreude, Or How Neal Cassidy Learned That He'd Never Known What He'd Got Til It Was Gone

by profdanglais



Series: Schadenfreude [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, Neverland (Once Upon a Time), Schadenfreude, Shameless Smut, Smut, Voyeurism, because Neal's a dick, pretty much just straight up porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 04:22:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18045395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/profdanglais/pseuds/profdanglais
Summary: Neal stumbles across Hook and Emma getting down in Neverland. This is porn, folks. It doesn't even pretend not to be.





	Schadenfreude, Or How Neal Cassidy Learned That He'd Never Known What He'd Got Til It Was Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an amazing piece of writing by @doodlelolly0910 that can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/doodlelolly0910/181419728301
> 
> Because frankly, Voyeur Neal needs to be a trope.

Nealswaggered through the underbrush, or he tried to, cursing at the thorns that caught on his jeans as he went. _Fucking thorns,_ the thought. What kind of jungle had thorns? This place had gotten even worse since he’d left.

He pushed his way past the sharp brambles and into the clearing, feeling pleased with himself that after all this time he’d remembered where it was. It was darker than he recalled, shrouded in the same gloom as the rest of the island, but the water was as clear as the last time he’d seen it, cool and refreshing against his tongue as he knelt by the side of the wide, curving pool to take a sip. Perfect.

He began to unbutton his shirt. A little dip in the pool would do him wonders after the day he’d had, he thought. The Dark Hollow, the Shadow, Emma and her freaking _magic._

Just as soon as they got out of this fucking place he was taking her and Henry and getting the hell away from magic, for good this time. She wouldn’t object, he knew, she must hate this place and what it made her do as much as he did.

And if taking his family away meant that _he_ never got his hands on her, well so much the better.

Neal had seen the way _he_ looked at Emma, most of the time like he wanted to fuck her senseless against the nearest tree, but sometimes with a helpless yearning that made Neal uncomfortable. There was no way that goddamn pirate could possibly have feelings for Emma, he didn’t care about anyone, Neal knew that from experience. And of course Emma would never… she couldn’t…

Obviously when it came down to a choice, she’d choose the father of her child. _She_ wasn’t like his mother…

Neal conveniently _overlooked_ the fact that it was _his_ name she’d screamed in the Dark Hollow, even when both of them had been in danger of losing their lives. That was just… just coincidence. Er, or was it happenstance. Something like that.

He was rounding the curve of the pool heading for the small beach he knew was just on the other side of it, pulling off his shirt as he went when he heard the noise.

It sounded like— a moan?

Things were always moaning and groaning in Neverland, but even after twelve years Neal still recognised that _particular_ moan.

Emma.

He’d only heard that sound from her once before, when he’d gotten her tipsy on wine coolers and she’d been giggly and relaxed, and he’d had enough to drink himself that he took his time for once, touching her for what felt like forever until he’d gotten hard enough to perform. He’d thought she’d be bored, but she’d loved it, moaning like—

“Oooohhh, _fuck_ yes.”

—like that. Why the fuck was she moaning like that now?

He rounded the curve and found his answer. There, stretched out on the small beach, was Emma. Emma and —Neal hissed in his breath— _Hook_.

They were naked, completely bare, right there in the middle of the fucking jungle where anyone could see them —Neal conveniently _forgot_ that it had been Hook who’d shown him this pool, that probably only the two of them and Pan even knew it existed, much less how to find it— clutching at each other like they could never get close enough, his mouth on her neck, her fingers in his hair, his hook on her nipple, his hand between her legs.

Emma thrust her hips upwards as Hook’s fingers sank into her, her own fingers gripping his shoulder, nails digging into his scarred skin.

“Yes, fuck, yes. More. Ho— oooooh—ly fuck that feels good.”

“Shall I make you come on my fingers, love?” growled Hook, his voice deeper than usual, dark and wrecked. “You’re so beautiful when you come, even more so when you beg me for it.” Emma whimpered and pushed her hips forward again, harder. “Tell me what you want, Emma,” he rasped, slowing the motions of his hand. “What do you wish me to do to you, darling?”

This wasn’t the first time they’d done this. For some reason that was all Neal could think. This wasn’t a hasty scramble, a quickie in a dark corner with most of their clothes still on. This was two people who knew each other’s bodies and how they liked to be touched. Heground his teeth at the thought of it. How long had this been going on, when had they found the time? His son, his _and Emma’s_ son, was out there somewhere waiting to be rescued and she was spending all her time fucking the pirate. Never mind that it had been his, Neal’s, idea to take a break from their search for a day, to regroup. He’d had it in his mind that he and Emma might talk, reminisce, maybe he could remind her of how good things used to be between them— but no, apparently, she preferred Hook’s filthy hands —no, Hook’s _hand_ , singular, he sneered— on her. _In_ her. The sight of it disgusted him, but he couldn’t look away.

“Make me come on your fingers,” Emma was gasping, in response to Hook’s question. “Then fuck me hard, while I’m still high. I come forever when you do that.”

“As you wish,” Hook growled, kissing her neck again as he changed the position of his hand between her thighs. Neal couldn’t see what he was doing but whatever it was it drew unearthly cries from Emma, noises he had certainly never heard her make before. She threw her head back against the sand, exposing her neck to his lips as her hips lifted off the ground, grinding against his driving fingers.

“Please,” she whispered, again and again, “Please, please, please.”

Hook lifted his head and looked down at her, his eyes hot and possessive. “You’re so bloody gorgeous,” he rasped, “A wanton goddess, all sunshine and silk, I could sink inside you and stay there forever…” his voice dropped too low for Neal to hear, but whatever he said drove Emma even more wild and soon her moans became a scream, her nails breaking Hook’s skin and her toes digging into the sand as she came hard. 

Hook looked darkly satisified —smug bastard, thought Neal— pausing only long enough to lick his fingers before positioning himself between Emma’s sprawled legs and thrusting his cock deep inside her. Emma screamed again and Neal, his dumbfounded gape soon twisting into a scowl, was not surprised. No wonder that damned pirate swaggered everywhere he went, he thought bitterly. He probably wasn’t able to walk like a normal person, with that thing to carry around.

Neal winced a little as Hook drove himself deep and hard into Emma. That couldn’t be comfortable for her, he thought, no matter how wet she was, conveniently neglecting to notice the way she brought her hips up to meet each thrust, or the expression of mindless ecstasy on her face. Hook fucked her relentlessly, driving her ass into the sand with each thrust, drawing her orgasm out impossibly long.

She couldn’t still be coming, Neal thought incredulously, as the minutes ticked by.

Could she?

Gradually the haze cleared from Emma’s eyes and her expression shifted into sated contentment and Hook, who had been watching her closely, slowed his frantic pace. He curled his hand around her thigh and lifted it up over his hip, the change in angle allowing him to sink even more deeply into her where he remained, rocking gently. Emma permitted this for several long moments, humming in pleasure as she gazed up at him and stroked his face with her fingertips. Then without warning she flipped him onto his back. Hook grunted in protest as he slipped out of her but she was on him immediately, straddling his hips, her nipples sinking into the hair on his chest as she placed a hand on either side of his head.

“You almost died today,” she hissed at him. “Don’t do it again.”

“Don’t almost die?” he teased her, though there was strained tension in his voice and Neal remembered with a smirk that he hadn’t come yet. Maybe she wouldn’t let him. Blue balls would serve him fucking right.

“Dammit, Hook!” Emma smacked him hard on the chest and he chuckled.

“I’ve lived hundreds of years, darling, I can manage a few more.” When she continued to glare at him, he reached up and sank his fingers into her tangled, sandy hair and stroked his thumb across her cheekbone. “I’m a survivor, Emma,” he said softly, and the raw tenderness in his voice made Neal want to claw at something. How dare that motherfucker —very literally, in Neal’s case— speak to Emma like that? Bad enough that they were having sex, they were _not_ allowed to have feelings too.

Feelings for Hook… Emma couldn’t possibly. Could she?

Emma leaned her cheek against his hand and her face softened just for the blink of an eye. Then it went wicked.

“So. You’re a survivor, are you?” she purred.

“Aye.”

“You can survive anything, would you say?”

“I would.” Hook’s bravado seemed a bit shaky, Neal noticed. Hardly surprising when he was naked and rock hard under a woman with that glint in her eye.

The glint was new, he realised. Teenaged Emma had never had that glint.

“We’ll see about that.” Emma shimmied down Hook’s body, trailing her tongue along it as she went. When she reached his cock she ran her tongue up that as well, kissing the tip lightly before meeting Hook’s eyes and throwing down her challenge.

“You are not allowed to come in my mouth.”

“Wha—” Hook didn’t even have time to finish the word before she took his cock as deep into her mouth as it would go and sucked it hard. Hook hissed, his fist clenching in her hair, as a stream of curses began to pour from his lips. Emma gripped his cock at the base as her head bobbed up and down on it and the curses soon turned to pleas.

“Oh gods— please— I can’t— I have to— fuck, Emma—”

Emma lifted her head slowly, releasing him from her mouth with a wet, smacking noise that Neal felt certain was at least partly deliberate. “If you ever want to fuck Emma again you’ll come when I tell you to, and not a second sooner.” She swirled her tongue around the head of Hook’s cock, dragging the tip up his sensitive vein then nipped it just lightly with her teeth.

Hook made a sound somewhere between a groan and a scream. “Sweet kracken’s bollocks, Swan, are you trying to kill me?”

“You can survive anything, remember,” she taunted. “Well, survive this.”

Down she went again, sucking harder this time, and even though he couldn’t see it Neal felt certain she was using her tongue enthusiastically as well.

It seemed she’d learned a lot since they had been together.

 _Or maybe she just wants to suck him,_ whispered a little voice in his head. _Maybe she likes it, when it’s him._

Neal shrugged the voice away as Hook’s head lolled back onto the sand, his eyes screwed tightly shut and his jaw clenched, a bright red flush along his cheekbones. He looked blissful and also _intensely_ agonised, and Neal wondered for a moment if he might actually die.

Death by blow job. There were worse ways to go.

He could do with a blow job of his own, he thought with a scowl, adjusting himself. His own cock was as hard as it had ever been, pressing uncomfortably against the fly of his jeans. He was just wondering if he dared pull it out and give himself some relief when he noticed Emma slip her hand between her own thighs and begin to touch herself and he very nearly lost it in his pants.

What the fuck is she doing? he thought. She never did that when we…

 _She was barely sixteen when you…_ taunted the voice, back again in his ear. _Of course she didn’t know what she liked then, and it’s not as if you troubled yourself to teach her. You had the girl, he’s got the woman._

Damn it, thought Neal, _he_ wanted the woman. Or at least, he didn’t want Hook to have her.

_Bit late for that, though, wouldn’t you say?_

Emma was moaning around Hook’s cock as she stroked her clit, and he appeared to be clenching everything he possibly could in a desperate attempt to hold off his release.

“Please, please,” he whispered, as she had earlier. “Please, Emma. I need you.”

That seemed to be what she had been waiting to hear, or at least what spurred her on. In a flash she was straddling him again, bracing her hand against his chest as she lowered herself onto him and began to rock her hips in a fierce rhythm.

“I need you too, you stupid pirate,” she choked, almost like the words were being ripped out of her. “If you die, I’ll fucking kill you.”

Hook grabbed her hips, the tip of his hook drawing blood as it pierced the soft flesh of her ass, thrusting up to meet her pounding hips.

“I’ll die if you don’t let me come,” he snarled.

“Come, then,” she snarled back. “Come _now,_ Killian.”

Neal jerked back in surprise at the sound of Hook’s real name on Emma’s lips and the man himself seemed no less affected, thrusting up into her twice more before coming with a strangled shout. Emma stroked her clit again as she rode him through his release, soon coming again herself and collapsing onto his chest. Hook wrapped his arms around her and they lay panting and entwined for so long that Neal began to feel uncomfortable —well, more uncomfortable— and silently urged them to move.

No cuddling, he thought. Having to watch them fucking like they couldn’t get enough of each other had been nearly unbearable, but cuddling… that he truly could not stand.

Hook was whispering to Emma again, too softly for anyone but her to hear, but then she peeled herself off of him, laughing, and Neal sighed in relief.

Thank fuck it was over. They’d put their clothes back on and…

And Emma was pulling Hook to his feet, dragging him towards the pool.

“Are we finally going to swim now?” she asked, trying to sound exasperated.

“I think we’d better,” Hook teased. “There’s rather a lot of sand in your hair. Bit of a giveaway, that, and frankly I’d prefer not to have your father kill me just as we’re getting to be friends.”

“Oh my God, you and David are _not_ friends—”

They splashed into the water, squabbling as they went, and Neal turned away. Bitterness gnawed at his gut. So that’s how it was, he thought. The pirate wins. Again.

His erection taunted him as he headed back into the jungle, as Emma and Hook’s laughter rang in his ears. He should whack one out right here, he thought, it would serve them right.

 _You think they care?_ laughed the voice in his head. _They’ve got each other. You have nothing but your own right hand._

Neal scowled at the voice and crashed through the underbrush, hoping they heard him. He hoped they thought he was David and it scared them shitless. He rounded the corner of the pool, cursing as the brambles tore a hole in the leg of his jeans, unable to stop himself from glancing back towards the water. The last thing he saw as he left the clearing was Emma, afloat on her back, her skin luminous in the rising moonlight and Hook’s dark head between her thighs.

 

 


End file.
